To Crown a Queen
by Strawwolf
Summary: When Allison is stabbed by the Oni, Scott makes a fateful decision to save her life by biting her. Now she must navigate the world as a werewolf and decide if she can forgive Scott for his actions. But there's no time. Strange dreams and an old enemy threaten Beacon Hills and she has to learn to control herself. So she turns to the only person she feels can train her, Derek Hale.
1. Chapter 1

Chris felt frozen to the spot. Scott was cradling his daughter in his arms. It was clear she was injured and the fight appeared to be over, but no one looked happy. If anything they appeared to be upset. A sick feeling started to burble in his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Allison. He drew his gun, assessing the yard as he ran towards his daughter. Stiles and Lydia weren't present, a concern quickly diminishing in value as he approached Scott. Tucking the weapon away he assessed his daughter's injuries, his eyes immediately drawn to the blood spreading from her abdomen. He looked up to her face, pale and pinched, her eyes had taken on a glassy look. But when he said her name she heard him and looked over, attempting to smile.

"Allison," he whispered, cradling her cheek in his hand. She was surprisingly warm.

"Dad," she breathed out.

He pulled out his phone. An ambulance could be here in minutes. He quickly dialed, placing his other hand over her wound, trying to stem her blood, willing it to clot.

"Tell me what happened." He tried to keep his voice steady, his breathing rhythmic. When Scott didn't answer he looked up at the young man, only to find tears in his eyes.

"She says it doesn't hurt. I don't know what to do." His voice, pleading with Chris who had no more answers than Scott.

Despite his training Chris could feel that calm facade starting to melt away, like so much ice under a spring sun. That sudden flood of adrenaline, a cool rush that made him shiver in fear. They wouldn't arrive in time. It was too dark to see but Chris could guess that her blood was on Scott and the ground beneath him. His mind started to race. He had medical supplies in the car but surely she would need a transfusion. The hospital was too far and-

"911 do you need police, fire or ambulance?" A terse dispatcher on his phone interrupted his thoughts. Chris swallowed thickly and took a quick breath.

"Yes I, my daughter was choking on a hamburger in our car but she was able to cough it up. We won't be needing an ambulance."

"You're sure you wouldn't like us to dispatch someone?"

"Yes." The conversation couldn't end soon enough. He felt tears on his cheeks and in the back of his mind he knew. If he wanted her to live, to even have a chance he knew. He looked down at his daughter who had closed her eyes and was having trouble breathing and then up at Scott, almost wanting to laugh out of desperation that it had come to this.

"Scott you have to bite her." He tried keeping the emotion out of his voice.

"What?" Scott could barely register what Mr. Argent was saying. He couldn't bite Allison. Not after everything with her mom. Her family, they were hunters, not werewolves.

"You have to bite her." He sighed. "I know what I'm asking you to do. If there was any other way I wouldn't have brought it up but she won't make it to a hospital." He tried ignoring how wet his hand was, covered in his daughter's wound as he tried to keep it from draining out of her body. There was no turning back now.

Scott looked at him, still stunned. If someone had told him one day he would be here, in this situation, he would never have believed them. He didn't dare look down at Allison. Would she want this?

"Scott if you don't bite her, she'll die."

"She could still die even if I do!" His grip on Allison involuntarily tightened. Derek had said the bite was a gift and now he was the only one who could bestow it one anyone. The scent of her blood was overwhelming but underneath he could smell Mr. Argent's fear and growing anger.

Chris grabbed Scott's shirt with his free hand. Was he desperate enough to consider making threats? Could he hold a gun to the kid's head and make him do it? Would it make a difference if he did? _I can't lose her too._

"She doesn't have time for you to think about this Scott! I'm begging you."

"I don't know. Would she want this?" Scott said to Chris, his voice cracking. He didn't want to lose Allison either. He loved her, maybe more than he cared to admit now that he and Kira were growing closer. And he didn't want anything to happen to her, but he knew what the bite had done to him. It wasn't a fate he would wish on anyone.

"I know she wouldn't want to leave you or Lydia or Isaac or me. She'd want to stay if she could. And I think we owe it to her to try." He felt the tears stream down his cheeks as he looked over to his daughter, his only child. Her breathing was shallow now as he brushed his thumb over her cheek.

"Please Scott. I can't lose her." He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking as he sunk into himself, trying to force out thoughts of what life would be like without her.

Scott looked down at Allison. Her heart had slowed, its constant thump-thump sluggish like an overfed pet. She was unconscious and in any other situation would appear to only be sleeping. _Please don't hate me for this._ Taking a deep, shaky breath he pulled up her jacket sleeve, ignoring everyone around him. Reaching within himself he pulled out the wolf, his eyes turning red, his fangs growing out. In the distance he could have sworn he heard yelling. He took hold of Allison's arm, limp and pliant in his hand. He closed his eyes and brought his mouth down on her soft skin, sinking his teeth into her flesh.


	2. Chapter 2

Allison couldn't feel her limbs but somehow knew the sun was shining. When she opened her eyes and looked up, light was filtering through a canopy of leaves, bright and blinding. Glancing at her surroundings she soon realized there were no trees in sight. In fact, she couldn't see anything at all. The world was a wall of white. In the distance she thought she could hear a low buzzing and her head pounded as she looked down to her arm and frowned in confusion. A runnel of blood dripped from an open wound onto the ground. The red stark against the white. Strangely it didn't hurt but all the same she pressed a hand to it, hunter instincts kicking in.

"Allison." A voice whispered behind her. She turned only to find herself alone. Was she hearing things? On more than one occasion she had imagined her mother barking at her. Perhaps this was more of the same. But there was no telling who had spoken, if indeed anyone had.

Allison looked up at the leaves again, floating in space above her. Where was she? And where was everyone else? As she tried to puzzle out what had happened she noticed something almost pattern-like on the leaves. Gingerly she reached up, stretching, her fingers barely brushing against them. Standing on tip toe she managed to pull one down, only to find it wasn't a leaf at all. Turning it over and rubbing it between her fingers it felt like animal hide but was covered in writing. And even though her blood-coated fingers obscured the writing she recognized it as Latin. _Where's Lydia when you need her?_ She tucked the 'leaf' into her pocket and had no recourse but to start walking. Following the angle of the sun she continued in a westerly direction, always under the strange foliage that appeared to be everywhere. But even with the sun she found herself growing cold. Blood continued to drip down her arm, no matter the amount of pressure she applied, painting a path that vanished off in the distance from her then to her now.

"Allison." The voice insistent at her back. And she could swear she felt breath on her neck. But turning a full circle she was still alone, though uneasy now. After all she could only defend against what she could see and for the moment there was no one in sight. That faint buzzing was still in the distance. Louder now but still faint enough to block out like so much white noise. She stumbled along, wondering if she should be heading towards or away from the noise. Wondering at what point she was going to wake up because this couldn't be anything but a dream. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the last thing she did before falling asleep. But nothing manifested. Only a vague sense of self. As if she had always existed here, in this place.

Eventually though her feet started to ache but she couldn't tell how far she had come, there being no reference points from which to gauge her location. The sun didn't appear to be moving and she couldn't even make out if there was a horizon in the distance or not. Without a clear indication of progress she sat down, trying to clear her head. And slowly, without even thinking about it she lay down, careful to keep her arm at a distance from her body. She watched as the blood pooled around it, her eyes closing every so often as she curled into herself, only then realized how bone tired she truly was. A quick nap wasn't the smartest decision but without any seemingly present threat and the desire to sleep overwhelming her, she couldn't see why she shouldn't indulge. Besides, with her injury there was little chance she'd be able to fend off anyone. With that grim and bitter thought running through her mind she settled down to try and chase illusive sleep.

Blinking slowly she found herself staring not at the leaf canopy but at a familiar ceiling. Her ceiling. She winced as she sat up, noting that she was in her own room. That feeling of unease was gone. What had happened? She closed her eyes, trying to think through the headache to her last memory. No. Scott and Isaac and Kira had been there. They'd been fighting and she…a hand went to her stomach.

Allison pulled back the covers and lifted her shirt, only to find a bare torso. No bandages, no blood, no wound. Her eyes widened, heart beating away as she tried to control her breathing. _But…I was impaled._ She gingerly skimmed a finger across the unmarred skin, half expecting to find something, anything that would explain this. _There should be a wound. There should be a scar. There should be something!_ She pulled her hand around to her back as if that would normalize whatever this was. But again, nothing.

Maybe she was still dreaming. Maybe she only thought she'd woken up. It would at least explain why she was at home instead of a hospital. That's when she noticed the bandage on her arm. Large, white and taped up by an expert. A light tap of the fingers on said bandage brought a sharp sting lancing up her arm. Unnerved by this mystery wound she started digging under the tape, determined to peel it off when the door opened. Her head snapped up, only to relax when her father walked in. He stopped, hand on the doorknob, face carefully controlled, a smile playing across his face after several moments.

"You're awake," he choked out.

She frowned, holding up her arm.

"Dad what happened? Is everyone okay?"

Chris did his best to hold her gaze. She looked so lost. And frail. There was colour to her cheeks so that was promising. But more importantly she was alive. Scott had made no promises when they'd carried her to the car. She could reject the bite and die anyway. So Chris had brought her home, away from the prying eyes of doctors and law enforcement who would ask too many questions. Melissa had stitched and bandaged her, saying it was the least she could do. And so he'd sat by her bedside as she slept, redressing the wound, occasionally falling asleep when exhaustion took over until one day he'd pulled off the tape to find it had vanished. That's when he'd grasped her limp hand in his own, smiling through tears and silently taking back every negative thing he'd ever said to or thought about Scott.

"Are you feeling alright? Do you want something to drink?"

Allison frowned. She and her dad had always been straight with one another. Ever since Gerard and her mom… It was just the two of them now. And teammates didn't lie to one another.

"Dad what happened to my arm?"

Chris came and sat down beside her. Concern flickered across his face as he stared at the bedspread before looking her in the eye. Instinct told her something was wrong. Something beyond strange wounds appearing and disappearing on her body.

"Do you remember what happened when you went to save Lydia?" She nodded. It wasn't as if she'd hit her head.

"We were fighting the Oni. I dropped my guard for a moment when I fired off an arrow and I let one get in too close. And it…but there's no wound, there's not even a scar and why am I at home dad? What aren't you telling me?"

He sighed and closed his eyes. There really wasn't an easy or simple way to explain what he'd asked, what he'd begged Scott to do.

"When I got there you were in Scott's arms. And you were losing too much blood." He dropped his head, eyes instantly straying to the bandage on her arm. "We wouldn't have gotten you to a hospital in time. So I," he sighed, "I did the only thing I could think of to save you." He grabbed her hand and squeezed tight. "I asked Scott to give you the bite."

With that he turned his eyes on his daughter, waiting for the storm and she just stared at him in confusion. Realization dawned on her face and looked at her father in horror. This had to be dream, a nightmare. It didn't makes sense.

"You asked Scott to bite me? To, to turn me into a werewolf!"

He didn't respond but the pain in his eyes was answer enough. With that Allison looked down to the bandage on her arm and suddenly couldn't stand the fact it was touching her skin. She wrenched her hand out of her father's grip and reached down, ripping it off, ignoring the sting as the last bit of tape came free as she flung it onto the floor. Underneath, against her skin, was a bite mark with every indentation perfectly defined, oozing with blood. _Like the dream._ Here was the blood she'd expected. But it was all wrong. The wound was wrong, the placement was wrong. Everything was wrong.

"It's not real. It's not."

She whispered to herself, the sting of tears close at hand as she remembered screaming into her father's arms after learning that her mother was dead. Her mother, who had been bitten. Her mother, who had followed the family code. For a long while the two sat in silence as Chris waited and Allison tried to process what had happened to her and what had been done to her. She felt cold, like putting a hand to a frosted window and couldn't help but burrow her feet further into her covers.

"Why?" She couldn't even look at him, she was so filled with, something. Rage, sadness, grief, pity?

"I couldn't lose you." His voice was quiet and calm as she progressively got louder and angrier.

"So you had Scott turn me into this!" She held out her arm, drops of blood falling onto her sheets.

"If you're going to blame anyone for this then blame me. Scott didn't want to bite you." He watched as she curved into herself, tucking a hand around her middle, angling her back towards him, a protective stance, a wounded response.

"He could have said no." She wanted him to leave, to forget what he'd told her. To go back to sleep and forget anything was different, that she was different.

"Allison if he'd said no I might have held a gun to his head just to get him to agree." He sounded broken. But she didn't care. She'd gone into the fight as human and had come out as something else, with no choice in the matter. And worst of all she could feel the itch on her arm, wanted to rip the wound right out, amputate the limb if need be, anything to get her away from what it meant.

"I'm tired," she mumbled.

"Allison I'm sorry you're upset but I won't apologize for saving your life." Chris sighed and stood up. "You're all I have left. And if it means anything, I love you and I would do it again."

_Get out._ And in that moment as he turned and left, closing the door behind him, all she wanted was her father. She wanted him to hug her and tell her things would be alright. But how could they be? She wasn't the same. And at the moment she only felt something akin to betrayal. So she was alone again, left with the sinking truth that everything could only be different from now on. _There's no going back._ Wiping a stray tear from her cheek she pursed her lips and just tried to focus on breathing. Meditation was supposed to be a calming activity, one that brought clarity. But all she felt was anxious.

Fed up with her room and her dad and the situation, she swung her legs off the bed and made to stand, almost falling to the floor. Plopping back on the mattress she found her feet had no intention of cooperating with her. Instead they were more like wet sand, heavy and unstable. Instead she basically dragged herself to her closet, pulling out the closest jacket she could reach and made sure to pull it over the currently gaping wound on her arm.

She wrenched open her door, only to find Isaac standing in front of her. He sheepishly smiled but she had no intention of returning the gesture. Instead she brushed past him, face set in a cold grimace.

"Allison?"

His voice loud and jarring, she ignored him in her attempt to reach the front door.

"Allison wait!"

He reached out and grabbed her arm. For one moment she looked up at his face, full of concern and worry before she ripped out of his grip and almost fell into the wall before she made it to the door. The handle was cool against her palm and for just a moment she rested her forehead on the moulding.

"You can't leave. You're-" He looked down to the blood trail she was leaving, picking up scents of fear and anger.

"I **am** leaving so don't you dare try and stop me." Without a backwards glance Allison unlocked the door and stepped into the hall, stumbling her way towards the elevator, blocking out whatever pleas Isaac might be making.

It was only when she stepped inside and the doors closed that she let herself lean into the corner. As she sank to the floor the entire weight of what had happened bowed her down and a desperate sob left her mouth. One moment and it was all gone. She started bawling and couldn't stop. Shaking and gasping for breath she grieved over what had been. It was a little death but it had meant something, her human life, and it had been over far too soon.


	3. Chapter 3

When the elevator doors opened Allison stared up, expecting to be confronted with the visage of another person. Thankfully she was wrong and instead stumbled into the empty corridor, not bothering to wipe the tears trailing down her cheeks. What was the point? It didn't matter if she was seen or what she looked like. Nothing really mattered anymore.

Stopping momentarily at the entrance to the building, she rested her hand on the door, staring down at her fingers, imagining them adorned with claws. _Would it hurt?_ She didn't even know when the next full moon was, biting her lip in frustration. She'd stopped keeping track sometime after Gerard had gone off the deep end and before her new code. Her eyes strayed to where the bite was, hidden under her jacket. It didn't really hurt; it was just…warm and kind of itchy. For a moment she felt a flash of heat travel up her arm and her vision fuzzed, her ears ringing. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to hold onto the door handle, fingers gripping tight. _Was this how it started with Scott?_

Everything in the lobby felt close. She could hear the motor of the elevator whirring somewhere behind her and the sound of water rushing through pipes in the walls. Slowly the sounds grew louder, folding around and against her. She felt a pressure behind her eyes and next to her ears, at first like a small pinch that soon became an ache like a fresh bruise. Breathing through the pain she pushed on the door, desperate to get away, nearly tripping as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She had been wrong, this was worse. A wall of sound crashed up against her senses as she crouched for fear of falling over. Hands to her ears, she whimpered, unable to stem the flow of noises bombarding her. And the sun. Full and bright like a blinding flare in the darkness she screwed her eyes shut against it. Her nose too was flooded with all manner of strangeness, from hot asphalt to garbage, sweat and deodorant, coffee and leather. In that one moment she was all too full with everything. The world had rushed at her and she felt as if she was going to burst.

Bile sat in the back of her throat as she put one hand on the ground to steady herself, feeling every pit and imperfection in the concrete against her skin. Gulping air like water she tried to regulate her breathing, a wave of dizziness washing over her. For several moments she didn't move, focussing inward until the rest of world disappeared piece by piece and only she remained, her heart beating rapidly but steadily. For all that she had complained about meditating, she was happy he'd taught her how. _Dad._

Her heart clenched at the thought of him. The bite wasn't the only fresh wound she'd suffered and now, now she had to figure this out on her own. She let out a shaky breath and stood, her stomach still a little jumpy as she brought a hand up to shade her face and slowly opened her eyes. It was still too sharp as she squinted down at her shoes, tempted to run back inside and face the pipes and elevator all over again. Slowly though, everything grew softer as if someone had the sun on a dimmer switch. The pain behind her eyes vanished, leaving her free to raise her head and look around. Nothing looked any different. There were people walking by, chatting on cellphones, listening to music, drinking from coffee cups. No one was staring at her in fear or revulsion; no one was even looking in her direction. She was amongst them and they didn't even know what she was. _Hiding in plain sight._

And though she knew there was no reason to be anxious, that her father meant her no harm, that they were the only hunters in town, a small scared voice settled in the back of her mind. It had been a constant companion when dealing with all matters werewolf, warning her, scolding her for taking risks, telling her to listen to her training. Now though it told her to run, run from these people and their smells and find somewhere dark and warm and safe, somewhere with deep water and large trees and high places to look down on the world. The thought of such a place felt…satisfying though she was unsure as to why. Behind her a bell rang and in a moment her senses were filled with something familiar and yet entirely alien.

"Allison."

She turned to see Isaac, a pained look on his face, standing hesitantly in the doorway. But it wasn't just him; she could smell him, see the pores on his face, the sweat beading at his temples. It was as if she'd never really **looked** at him before and yet still somehow recognized what he was underneath it all. If she closed her eyes she suspected she would still be able to vaguely tell where he was.

"Allison please."

She couldn't deny that she sensed his tension, from the set of his shoulders to the grimace on his face, for all that they had shared before but…everything was different now and she just wanted to leave. The small voice inside urged her to run. He might be familiar but he wanted her to go back, back to a place she no longer trusted.

"I can't," she whispered, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks again.

He made no reply, only stood silently watching as she turned and walked away. She listened but he made no move to follow this time, his heartbeat retreating into the crowd of pedestrians as she made her way down the street. It took several blocks of avoiding eye contact and hugging the side of buildings before she would allow herself to believe she was alone.

For a while she wandered, aimless but determined. Every so often she'd stop and stare at someone or sniff the air or put her hand to her head and grimace. It was an overwhelming experience. The town **looked** familiar but everything felt new and strange. And that little voice wouldn't stop urging her to run.

Eventually she found herself headed out of downtown and towards the suburbs. Despite her shoes she felt every pebble, every crack, every uneven bit of ground, serving to unbalance her every so often. And her bite was itching, buzzing with heat every time she stopped to absorb all the new sensations she was feeling. Movement seemed to help so she never stopped in one place for too long, until eventually she found herself standing in front of a familiar home, though it had never felt so intimidating before.

She felt like an idiot ringing the doorbell and resisted to urge to press her hand over the bite. But she had to know and waited for what felt like an age, scuffing her shoes on the welcome mat, listening for movement from inside. She stiffened when she heard footsteps padding quietly towards her, not knowing whom they belonged to.

The door slowly opened to reveal Lydia, her face expressing something akin to shock and joy. Her eyes watered as she took one big step forward and threw her arms around her best friend, standing on tiptoe, her fingers clutching at Allison. The redhead let out a silent sob and the two held tight to one another, not wanting to let go for fear that it was all a dream. Allison relaxed into the embrace, allowing herself to be soothed by the calming presence of her friend.

It was Lydia who pulled back first, her eyes darting over Allison's face with worry, not yet daring to ask for an explanation. Allison smiled weakly, noting the circles under Lydia's eyes, the drawn look on her face, the unkempt hair. Lydia returned the look but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Both left things unspoken as they entered the house, walking upstairs. Allison held back from fiddling with her jacket sleeve as they stepped into the bedroom, only to see Lydia watching her.

"Are you…"

"I'm fine. And you're…"

"Fine."

It was a lie but Allison suspected that pointing it out wouldn't do any good. The brilliant and bubbly woman she knew was absent and in her place was this forlorn-looking shadow with a sad tone in her voice. There was no doubt her mood was in some way connected to the nogitsune.

A gap of silence opened up between them as Lydia sat on the bed while Allison fought the urge to scratch her arm. It was taking all of her concentration just to stand still as her skin prickled beneath the fabric.

"Do you want something to drink?" Lydia offered half-heartedly. Allison shook her head, trying to distract herself by taking in all the smells that permeated the room. Lydia sighed.

"This is ridiculous. We should be able to talk about it. I mean, I was kidnapped, you were stabbed, a fox spirit tried to kill us."

_She doesn't know._

Allison frowned, wondering how many people knew the truth and why they hadn't told Lydia. Secrets were dangerous though and as much as she wanted to hide it, to pretend it hadn't happened, everyone was going to find out eventually. So instead of perpetuating the lie, she slowly pulled up her sleeve to reveal the bite, still oozing blood and looking generally unpleasant. Lydia's eyes went wide and for a long minute she said nothing before looking up to meet her eyes.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Allison couldn't help but nod.

Without a word Lydia stood and left the room, leaving a floral scent behind along with a very confused Allison. Was that it then? Was another supernatural friend one too many? She stared down at her arm, silently cursing it for having cost her so much. She moved to leave, only to find herself blocked by Lydia, carrying what looked like a toiletries kit, unzipping it to pull out a gauze pad, bandages and scissors.

"My mom will kill me if you drip all over the carpet."

Allison looked up, wide-eyed and surprised. Lydia gave her a pointed look, assuming she doubted her abilities.

"Do you plan on wrapping that bite one-handed? I don't think so."

"You don't have to." Allison tried to wave off the offer but Lydia was insistent.

"I passed First Aid with flying colours Allison, top marks in the class; I know what I'm doing."

Allison watched and waited as Lydia bound up the bite once more, gentle hands wrapping the bandage around her arm, securing it.

"So..."

"So…"

"How's your dad taking it?" Lydia gestured down to the bite. She didn't expect Mr. Argent had taken it well for all that he loved Allison. Despite recently changing his ways, he'd hunted and killed werewolves in the past and it was difficult to believe he would miraculously accept his daughter had become one.

Allison plucked at the bedspread, unwilling to look Lydia in the eye. She wasn't ready to talk about how she'd run out of the house, how her father had...

"He's fine."

Lydia narrowed her eyes.

"What really happened? Why did Scott bite you?"

Of course she would know it was Scott. It couldn't have been anyone else. Allison sat down next to Lydia, staring at the carpet as she let the words pour out.

"I don't really remember much. We were fighting the Oni and there was one right in front of me. I didn't bring my bow up in time to block him and felt this pain," she mimed down towards her torso. "He must have stabbed me and I passed out. I woke up at home and Dad admitted he asked Scott to bite me."

"Oh."

Silence against reigned as the two sunk into their awareness of the situation. Nothing and yet everything had changed. Their conversation was stilted, Allison was jumpy, Lydia was quiet. In just two short days, the firm confidence they had once known and expressed had vanished like so much dust in a windstorm. Somewhere downstairs a clock chimed the hour, seconds ticking by as they sat side by side, trying to absorb it all.

"Lydia?"

"Hmm?" She only appeared to be half-listening, her brow furrowed in concentration, gaze fixed at a point on the wall.

"Why didn't anyone tell you what happened?"

"I don't know. I mean, I… I felt you die and then you…well obviously you didn't. I **thought **something weird was going on because I'm never wrong about dead bodies but Isaac said you were going to be fine. And then your dad took you home. I tried to visit but they kept saying you were asleep."

"Maybe I did die."

Lydia tilted her head and frowned.

"I'm serious. I mean I'm not human anymore. I don't really know what I am anymore." Allison pulled her knees up, resting her chin on them. Lydia leaned over, resting her head on a shoulder.

"At least you have useful powers," she mumbled. "I just get to scream at people."

Allison wrapped her arm around her friend.

"I'll switch with you. Anytime."

That's when Allison's stomach decided to make an entrance, burbling loudly in hungry protest. They both looked at each other and burst out laughing, loud and throaty. It felt good though and Allison couldn't help but be grateful for Lydia who pulled her off the bed.

"Let's get you something to eat."

Dashing into the kitchen the two cooked up some grilled cheese sandwiches and pounded back a few stray juice boxes they found in the fridge. Then, after Allison kept sneezing because the pepper shaker was close at hand, they spent the next hour or so, testing her nose with a variety of condiments ranging from pickled onions to horseradish that Lydia hid around the house. One would have called it an experiment; the other would have said it was a distraction.

Much later they were ensconced on the couch, watching a rerun of America's Next Top Model, devouring a bowl of pretzels when Allison turned to the redhead.

"What happened after?"

"After?" Lydia looked up in confusion from the photo competition.

"You got the nogitsune out of Stiles right?"

"Yeah and it's trapped now, hopefully forever."

"And everyone's, ok?" She hated to ask but she knew something was wrong. Lydia wouldn't have looked so haunted otherwise. The two sat there for a long while before she spoke, eyes focussed on the tv.

"Stiles is…He hasn't been the same. He tries to joke around but I think he's internalizing his guilt. And Aidan, he…he died."

She squeaked out the last part, as if it were difficult to voice. And Allison could see her friend shaking, hear the rapid beat of her heart. She had never cared much for the twins, as they'd caused chaos with the Alpha Pack and mischief afterwards. But she knew Lydia had cared about Aiden and so for that she was sorry. But before she could reach out and offer condolences, the doorbell rang. As one they turned towards the sound, though Allison was far more apprehensive, subconsciously leaning towards the door, listening for who was on the other side as Lydia moved to answer it without a second thought.

"Scott." Lydia sounded surprised to see the boy waiting on her doorstep.

Allison flinched, looking around for a way to escape back up to Lydia's room without having to walk past the front door. Realizing she was trapped she sunk further into the couch, trying to hide. One of the last people she wanted to see right now, besides her dad, was Scott.

"Is Allison here?" He tried to peer past the petite banshee, forcing Lydia to stand on tiptoe, bracing her hands on either side of the doorframe.

"What makes you think she's here?"

"Isaac called me. Said she was awake."

"And he said she was here?" Lydia raised an eyebrow.

Scott seemed decidedly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"No. Not really. I went to her apartment first. And then I sort of, followed her here."

"You tracked her!" Lydia crossed her arms, glaring at Scott who had the good sense to look guiltily down at his shoes.

"We're just worried about her."

"Tell you what. **If** I see her I'll her you stopped by."

"Lydia." Scott tried to stare her down. Lydia just rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you go talk to Stiles. He'd probably like a visit from you." With that she shut the door in his face and walked back to the den to find Allison huddled in a corner of the couch looking tense.

"Don't worry I sent him away. Is it that bad?"

"I just, don't want to talk to him right now." Allison absently touched her bandage. "Hey would it be alright if I stayed, for a little while?"

Lydia smiled.

"I'll ask my mom but I'm sure it's fine. You can borrow a set of pjs and we can have a slumber party. Like old times."

Later that night after stuffing themselves with sweet and salty popcorn and watching a Ryan Gosling marathon that Lydia had insisted on, Allison was curled up on an inflatable mattress, trying to will herself to sleep. The problem was her thoughts seemed more active than ever, starting at every unknown noise both inside and out. It was sometime in the a.m. before she finally drifted off.

When she next opened her eyes she found herself in a forest. For a moment Allison believed she'd somehow wandered outside but there were no landmarks, no city lights, no buildings. All was dark and still with a sliver of moon in the sky, illuminating everything around her in a dim light. She scanned the area, apprehension taking hold of her heart. There was something familiar about this place and yet she had no memory of it.

A strange pattern on a nearby tree caught her eye, looking less like bark and more like a design. As she reached out to touch it, she found claws on her hands where her nails should have been. Recoiling in panic she looked to her other hand, finding it mirrored the first. There were no fangs or pointed ears to complete the set but all the same, it was disconcerting. They were smooth to the touch and likely sharp. She looked to the tree again, as if to score a set of marks down the trunk but found the surface too smooth and the pattern on the bark something more akin to writing.

_I _**_have_**_ been here before._

She was sure of it but couldn't quite remember, as if a fog had settled over her brain. Everything was muted and vague, with all the details blurred out. For a moment it was like she was standing on the edge of something, as if the answer was close at hand but the feeling slipped away before she could make anything of it. The tree however, became more distinct and writing sharper and more defined. It was one long spiralling line with just one word repeated over and over, "lupus".

She would have reached out to touch it, if not for a sound somewhere far behind her. It was unintelligible even with her enhanced hearing but grew steadily closer, a mixture of voices speaking all at once without uttering distinct words, creating a constant murmur. She turned to see where it was coming from but she was seemingly alone. A cold breeze pushed at her hair, raising goose bumps along her neck.

"Allison," a silky voice whispered in her ear, so close she swore she felt their breath on her neck. Backing up against the tree she looked from side to side, seeing nothing and no one. That's when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning she saw Kate, a sneer plastered on her face.

"Hello traitor."


End file.
